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<title>and the melody plays on in dreams (do you hear it yet?) by forestdivinity (ForestDivinity)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054880">and the melody plays on in dreams (do you hear it yet?)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestDivinity/pseuds/forestdivinity'>forestdivinity (ForestDivinity)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>to my father i solemnly declare [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anger, Epistolary, Gen, Letters, Loneliness, Pre-Canon, implied child neglect</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:34:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,115</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestDivinity/pseuds/forestdivinity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The second in a series of unsent letters, written from various Hargreeves siblings to the man they called their Father.</p>
<p>Next up it's Vanya, eighteen, alone, and still trying (and failing) to come to grips with her ostracisation from her family. A lot of complex emotions and barely hidden anger.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <i> It has been a year since Ben died, near enough. I wonder if you remember that; you were always so meticulous about dates and about your children. </i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Reginald Hargreeves &amp; Vanya Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves &amp; Everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>to my father i solemnly declare [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973146</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and the melody plays on in dreams (do you hear it yet?)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Dad </span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I am writing a book</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>There has been a curious amount of snow this year. </span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I am almost top of my class at the music school-</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Father,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope this letter finds you well and in good health. It is almost Christmas, I know I haven’t written in a while, my apologies. It has been a year since Ben died, near enough. I wonder if you remember that; you were always so meticulous about dates and about your children.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well... most of your children. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I’m sorry. </span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How are the others? <strike>Only Diego has written me, </strike></span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>can you pass on my best wishes…</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lately, I’ve been considering buying a new violin. The one you gave me feels too important to be carting about from place to place, but when I looked into them they were expensive. I guess I should be grateful to have gotten such a gift from you, though I doubt it meant much. It was just something you had around, right?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Last week I told someone you were my Father and this girl in my class didn’t believe me. I said I was a Hargreeves, but she thought I was lying - why would I lie about that?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I’m too ordinary she said-</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I was never on TV like the rest of them, so it’s probably understandable.</span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span> I wasn’t even good enough to be their sibling, was I?</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So, I’ve been thinking about Ben a lot lately. I wanted to come and visit on the anniversary of the funeral, but I have a recital rehearsal that day that I can’t afford to miss. I think he would have understood, Ben always told me to follow my dreams. Sometimes I still can’t believe he’s gone, you know? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And I probably won’t make it home over the holidays either. I thought it was important to tell you that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I’m sure I won’t be missed</span>
    </em>
    <em>
      <span>.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I haven’t seen the Academy on TV much lately, come to think of it - </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>s<strike>orry to change the subject again I just</strike></span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>- </span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I guess they’re still struggling with the loss of Ben. You always said he was important on missions and, well, everyone else was a lot closer to him than me. I wish I could have stayed, but there was nothing for me in that house, was there? </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>N<strike>o-one needed me around.</strike></span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> At least here I’m doing something useful.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>It’s just so hard, being the useless child, Dad.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So, I think my violin skill has improved, it’s a lot easier to get better when you have dedicated teachers. Before I got here, I didn’t realise how much I was struggling, trying to learn by myself. Not that I’m ungrateful for the opportunity. It was a pleasant break from sitting around in my room. Maybe I would make you proud now? I know it’s not much compared to my siblings but-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, are you well? I’d assume so. I’ve never even seen you fazed. Even when Five vanished and Ben died, you were the same. You’ve always been exactly the same. </span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Maybe it’s because you’re old.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s strange being away from home, even if I’ve already been gone for months. Somehow, I’ve found that I’m lonely here too. I thought I was out of place at the Academy because I was normal, but everyone is normal here and I’m still the odd one out. </span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>It’s not fair!</span>
    </em>
    <em>
      
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What I mean, it just doesn’t seem right. Is it always so hard to make friends? I feel like people look right through me sometimes, I’m still on the outside looking in. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’re probably not the person to ask about friends.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should write to Mom instead. I miss her too. Maybe I could try to come home in the spring instead? The orchestra always gets busy around then, though... </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Dad, I don’t want to be here anymore.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>Sometimes I don’t want to be anywhere.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I like the music here. There’s always something playing, someone practising, I like that too. There was always an air of silence at home, I know you never liked much noise. Some of the songs are familiar, like I’ve heard them before, but they’re not pieces I’ve played. Did you play music to us as children? I don’t remember.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I never remember much about being a child. I guess that’s normal, especially with the anxiety and everything, </span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I probably blocked it all out on purpose! </span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, I’m sorry again about missing Christmas. Not that we ever did anything for Christmas, but it seems like the time that I should come back, </span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I mean that’s when normal families get together, isn’t it?</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
  <em>
    <span> It’s just so busy, you know. I have a lot of rehearsals. And pieces I need to learn for my exams, they’re important if I want to get auditions in the future. I want to apply for a local orchestra when I graduate, so I should practise a lot now. Get better. I’m not really good at anything else after all.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway, I think it would be best for me to stay away. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I really don’t want to see any of you anyway, it’s not like they’d even notice if I did come back-</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sometimes I wonder if there’s any point to writing these letters. It’s not like you ever reply, Dad. </span>
  </em>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I’m not even good enough for the decency of a reply. I bet you wouldn’t ignore the others like this. </span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em>
      <span>I’m trying. I’m trying, Dad.</span>
    </em>
  </strike>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tickets for the next recital go on sale next week. I’m playing in this one, if you’d like to come. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I know you’re probably busy. You're always busy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It seemed pertinent to let you know, anyway.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Best wishes</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Vanya.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She means to post the letter, she really does. It’s even wrapped in an envelope and stamped, ready to take down to the post office on her next trip, but then she forgets about it because she’s late for a class. And then Diego doesn’t bother replying to her last letter. And then she gets a poor grade and considers quitting school altogether, and by that point she’s already missed the funeral’s anniversary and there’s only a few days before Christmas break.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By then, there’s really no point in sending the letter at all. It sits on her desk over the holiday season and then gets buried under a pile of new music she has to learn and books she’s got to study for her next round of exams. Vanya is tired, she misses her family and silently loathes them in equal measures.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diego doesn’t write to her again. No-one bothers to write to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t send the letter.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please comment and Kudos if you like!! You can follow me on <a href="https://ashayathyla2.tumblr.com/">@ashayathyla2</a> or join my <a href="https://discord.gg/NCxhZY9">Discord</a> for TUA discussions!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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